


You’re Full Of Surprises

by thatmaxpreslife



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: I worked really hard on this shitty fanfic, M/M, Music AU, i love them, they are such pure babs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 08:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12477044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatmaxpreslife/pseuds/thatmaxpreslife
Summary: Preston and Max had never really talked until Preston found out about Max’s secret abilities, and needless to say, Max really needs to work on his communication skills.





	1. An Introduction

Max sighed and pushed open the door to the small practice room, which held a chair and an old piano. He pressed down on the lowest key, and bent down to pick up his ukulele from underneath the piano bench. He took it out of the case and adjusted the strings, humming the pitches to himself as he turned the small knobs. He plopped down on the chair in the corner, and started strumming rhythms and fingering the chords to varying songs, humming the melodies quietly to keep the time of the strums.

Preston had never been a quiet person. At age five, his Gram Gram had bought him a puppet playstand with multiple finger puppets, ranging from a magician to a small astronaut man. He played with it and put on shows for her every day.  
When he was seven, Gram Gram bought him costumes so he could put on his own one man shows.  
When he was ten, he started watching old musicals (that he would sing to rather enthusiastically) and his Gram Gram would read Romeo and Juliet to him every day, upon his multiple requests.  
When he started middle school, Preston was the cowardly lion in The Wizard of Oz, a musical his school put on. He did the musicals every year after that, and auditioned for every play his high school put on, eventually auditioning for the musicals the local theater in his town put on every few months. He went to see Wicked when he was in his sophomore year and cried multiple times because damn, Defying Gravity was a fucking great song.

Max and Preston had never really interacted, save for group projects or Max asking Preston for answers on the homework he never did. Max, in Preston's eyes, was just some wannabe douchbag who didn't care about anything but himself. Max often argued with teachers about stupid things that didn't matter, his worst arguments happening between him and their shared Environmental Science teacher, David (he preferred his students develop a stronger connection with him by calling him by his first name). The two never agreed on anything, and David would constantly tell Max that he knew he could do better. That he knew he was a good kid. Max would brush him off and sit at the back of the class, to be ignored until the bell rang. So, Preston never really deliberately interacted with Max. "Better for the both of us," Preston would tell himself, ignoring Max and continuing with his schoolwork.

Preston didn't envy many people (save for big actors on broadway. Ben Platt was his favorite), but there was a specific group of people he did grow jealous of from time to time. That group was the school's band and orchestra. The musically inclined kids. Though he could sing fairly well, Preston never really did get the concept of reading sheet music, or the specific mouth movements or fingerings that were required for each instrument. He had tried taking different lesson numerous times, but ended up quitting every time due to his lack of instrumental musicality. The violin had confused him to no end, and so had the bass. Preston had then tried the flute, but gave up because he couldn't even get a sound out of the damn thing. He'd tried the trumpet, but then learned what transposing was and said a giant "fuck that" to being instrumentallly inclined, and decided to stick to greatly appreciating what instrumental musicians had to go through to play music correctly. He'd just leave that to the professionals.

Although Preston could not play an instrument, he still loved performing. There was a little café in his town, and every Wednesday night Preston would put his phone on a karaoke song and sing along to it. People loved him, so he kept doing it through middle school and his first two years of high school. The start of junior year had been busy for him, so he took a break from performing for a while to focus on schoolwork. He'd go back when things were less hectic, he'd decided.

His Gram Gram was his biggest fan, even if she was nearly deaf.


	2. He Was Gonna Play the Guitar

Max never really did much in his free time, save for ukulele practice and intense sessions of Modern Warfare or Halo. He often sat in his room, searching up chords to songs he could play on his ukulele and mastering them within the hour. His parents never really cared what he did, and threw him into multiple activities that he hated to no end. When he was ten, they signed him up for guitar lessons and bought him a guitar to get him out of the house.  
Now, Max was a small child at ten. The guitar they had bought for him had been much too large, so his teacher had taken the liberty of buying him a ukulele instead. It was a blue soprano ukulele with black nylon strings, and it fit Max perfectly. At first, he was reluctant to even try playing the thing, but gradually took a liking to the music that came from it when he strummed. Seven years later, Max still had the small soprano, and played it every day. The stings had been changed probably a hundred times from his vigorous playing, and the paint was chipping off. Even so, you could say Max loved that ukulele. And Max didn't love anything. 

Max arrived to school early on Monday morning. He always came early, to avoid the attention he knew his ukulele would bring. He opened the door to his usual practice room and tucked his ukulele away underneath the bench of the piano.

The only two people who knew he played were his friends, Nikki and Neil. When they first found out, they gave him crap for it because for once Max actually gave two shits about something, but eventually their teasing died down, and every once in a while one or both of them would sit in Max's practice room and listen to him play while they did homework or talked or scrolled through social media. Upon Max's requests and threats, none of the videos they had taken on their phones made their way to the internet. 

"Hey Max." Neil said, catching up to him as Max closed the door to the practice room.

"Sup Neil." Max greeted back, turning to look at Neil. 

"Are you doing the open mic at the café on Wednesday?" Neil asked, smirking at Max. He knew Max left his ukulele there every day, and used his lunch hours to prepare for the open mic nights he'd just started attending.

"Fuck off." Max said, turning to walk into the School hallways.

"I'm just fucking with you." Neil said, grabbing up his stuff and following Max inside.

"But seriously, are you doing it tonight? I might bring Nik if you're gonna sing." Neil said, jogging to catch up with Max.

"You know I don't fucking sing." Max said, reaching his locker and pulling out his books for Geography.

"Like hell you don't. Don't lie to me asshole, I've heard you." Neil countered, walking alongside Max. They both had the same geography class in the mornings.

"I don't sing. I'm just playing along with QM." Max said simply.

"Who the fuck is QM?" Neil asked.

"My old teacher. I took lessons from him when I was like, ten." Max said.

"Sweet. I'll bring Nikki then." Neil said, smirking again.

"Fuck you guys." Max replied, entering the classroom.

The class went by slowly and painfully. Mondays meant double periods, which meant nearly two whole hours of geography bullshit. Max hated geography class. The only entertainment he got was occasionally flipping Neil the bird (which he sarcastically returned) and throwing crumpled paper notes at the back of his head. When the bell rang, Max raced out to throw his books in his locker. He proceeded to walk toward the music rooms, entering the one with his ukulele. He picked it up, tuned it, and strummed a few times. 

He plopped down in his chair, and started plucking to Elvis Presley's I Can't Help Falling In Love With You. It had been the first song Max ever learned, so of course it was his favorite. He ran through the chord progressions, humming the words to keep time with the strokes.

C, E minor, A minor, F....

Wise men say  
Only fools rush in  
But I  
Can't  
Help  
Falling in love  
With  
You.


	3. Preston Goodplay, Smooth Criminal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally starting to get good rip :’)

Wednesday night, Max was ready for action at the open mic. His parts were practiced, people were seated and chatting absently, and performers were going on one by one in groups and solo acts. There were very few things Max loved, and besides his small ukulele, music was one of those very few things. It was 9:36 exactly when he and QM started setting up onstage, and Nikki and Neil were seated at a small table not far from Max, eating cookies and drinking coffee.

Just as luck would have it, Wednesday was an entirely free day for Preston. He could finally go back to the open mic night and check out what had been going on in the small café since he took his big break for school. He walked downtown to the small café, greeted the baristas (they knew his order by heart, and chatted with him while his coffee was being made), and sat down by himself at a small table. He sipped his coffee slowly and waited for the next performers to finish setting up. An older man went up to the stage with a guitar, adjusted his microphone, and nodded to a boy wearing a hood next to him. The blue grabbed a small blue ukulele, positioned himself on a seat next to the older man, adjusted his microphone accordingly, and cracked his knuckles. They nodded to each other one more time, and began their song. Barely five seconds in, Preston recognized the song and smiled smugly into his coffee cup. He had a soft spot in his heart for Bohemian Rhapsody. He looked up, and the boy in the hood (though his hood had fallen off, so I guess you could just call him the boy), was plucking wildly at his small ukulele. Preston's eyes widened when he saw that it was Max, and he nearly choked on his coffee in surprise. When the song had ended, Max and the older looking man nodded to the small crowd, now clapping and whistling, and they heading off the stage. Preston could only sit and stare at his table.

"Holy shit..." Preston said to himself. Out of everyone he would expect to at least be a little musically inclined, Max was definitely not one of his first guesses. After most of the people in the café had left and the last of the acts had played their sets, Preston left the café and went home. He needed to get a good nights sleep for the day that was to come. The day he would confront Max on his impeccable ukulele skills.

He went to bed determined that night.

Preston woke up the next morning and rushed to get dressed. He had to find Max and confront him about his secret ukulele playing abilities. Preston had seen plenty of people play the ukulele, but none of them wowed Preston like Max did with his interpretation of Bohemian Rhapsody.

He got to school right as the first bell rang. Despite waking up early, Preston was still nearly late. He'd never really been great with his time management. He wasn't the sort of person who was always late to everything and never remembered the date, but rather the sort of person who stayed up until two in the morning writing his own plays or would spend all day on a project only to find out it wasn't due for a month. He was just terrible with his time, and had to be constantly reminded where he was going and not to stay up too late by his Gram Gram.

At lunch, Preston found Max in the lunch line, and sneakily waited for him to get his food so he could follow him around. Preston had noticed that Max always disappeared during lunch, and was sure it had something to do with his small ukulele. When Max finally got out of the line with his lunch, he headed to the music rooms. Preston followed from a distance, and watched Max enter his usual practice room. Five minutes passed and Preston walked up to the door of the room, taking a deep breath and rehearsing his "lines" in his head.

1... take a deep breath 

2... confront the dude, congratulate him.

3

"MAX WHAT THE FUCK YOU PLAY THE UKULELE YOU ASSHOLE." Preston burst through the door screaming, earning himself a scream back.

"PRESTON GET THE FUCK OUT." Max yelled, ushering Preston out the door.

"Wait wait wait waitwaitwaitwA-" Preston said quickly, shoving his way past Max and into the room. Preston had a good couple of inches on Max, and was able to overpower him and push through the door.

"Preston, I am going to count to three, and you're going to get the fuck out of here. One," Max began, aiming a death stare at Preston.

Preston panicked and said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Two," Max said, coming closer.

"I WILL TELL EVERYONE YOU PLAY THE UKULELE." Preston practically screamed into Max's face. Max froze.

"You wouldn't fucking dare." 

"Like hell I wouldn't. Let me listen."

"No."

"I will do it, Max. Do not test me. I am a man of my word. And I fucking would." 

Max sighed and rolled his eyes. "God! Fine! Sit your ass down, and keep your mouth shut so I can practice." Max said, throwing his hands up in the air in pitiful defeat. Max honestly didn't care if people knew that he played, but he did care that they would want to listen. Max wanted none of the up close and personal song requests, and none of the complaints that might follow if he didn't know the song or didn't want to learn it. Max liked doing things on his own time, and Preston would not take away his private time.

Preston sat down on the piano bench, satisfied, and listened while Max played. There was an all time favorite that Max would play on a loop, Elvis Presley's I Can't Help Falling In Love With You. Preston absolutely loved it.

Take my hand  
Take my whole life too  
For I  
Can't  
Help  
Falling in love  
With  
You.


	4. A Refusal To A Proposal

For the next few months, Preston would sit in Max's practice room, and quietly listen to him play. Preston had actually grown to quite like Max, and Max had learned to tolerate Preston. Sometimes they would walk through the hallways to their shared classes, and Preston had even started to come back to open mic nights to watch Max. The two had developed a nice friendship over time, and though they had their differences, they could identify one another's needs.

Sometimes when Max was in a bad mood, or generally upset, Preston would buy him a hot chocolate from the cafeteria. Sometimes his playing was off, or something about the rhythm wasn't right, so Preston would quietly hum along to help keep time for Max. 

Whenever Preston was having a writing block, or something went wrong during play rehearsal or drama class, Max would quietly pick at his strings and play a medley of Preston's favorite songs. They fit together nicely, and Preston smiled smugly knowing he could crack Max, and gain his friendship.

Preston went to every open mic night that Max did. Max was a great player, and it was nice to sit in the little café and do homework while listening to Max's varying strumming and plucking. 

"So what's the set for tonight?" Prestonasked Max, sitting down on the piano bench. 

"Probably.. Hotel California, I think? QM really likes that one." Max said, pulling out his ukulele.

"Ooouu, I like that one." Preston chimed happily, pulling out some drama homework.

"Yeah. Hopefully it doesn't go to shit." Max mumbled. 

"Ah, I'm sure you'll be fab-u-lous." Preston smiled, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Yeah, whatever." Max rolled his eyes, hiding a tiny smile.

When Wednesday night came, Preston and Max arrived to the café together. Max met QM and sat with him onstage, adjusted their mics, and tuned up. 

Preston found Neil and Nikki at a table together, and shyly sat down.

"Hey Preston!" Nikki said excitedly.

"Greetings, Nikki. Hey Neil." Preston greeted back. Neil gave a small wave in greeting.

Max and QM started. They truly were a great duo, and they both played skillfully. Preston rested his chin in his hand and lost himself in the music. When the set was over, max packed up and sat at the table with Preston, Neil, and Nikki, and watched the rest of the performers. They all left the café together at 9, walking each other home. Preston and Max hung behind Neil and Nikki, and chatted while they walked.

"Y'know, you're a really great player." Preston said, turning his head to Max.

"You're just saying that. I'm alright." Max mumbled, still looking straight ahead.

"What? You're great! Why on Earth would you think you're only alright?" Preston said, exasperated.

"Modesty is the best policy." Max chuckled bitterly.

Preston opened his mouth, and then closed it, not wanted to start an argument with Max.

A few moments later, he opened it again.

"You should try out for Student Voices." Preston said hopefully.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"You already perform at the open mic nights. You should go bigger." Preston said.

"And the open mic nights are enough."

"Come On, Max. Maybe it'll be-"

"That's enough, Preston." Max cut him off. Preston furrowed his brows. "It'll be fun. You're a great player, people would love you, you could-"

"That's enough, Preston!" Max snapped bitterly. "I'm not you. I don't care if people love me. I don't want people to love me. Drop it."

"Fine." Preston said, looking down. He felt a couple of tears in his eyes, but didn't let them fall. Max had never snapped at him before. He'd never gotten angry at Preston, save for annoyed eye rolling and snide remarks. They walked the rest of the way home, dropped Preston off, and walked away. Preston watched the trio leave, and sighed, upset.

"I don't understand you, Max."


	5. Feelings?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I get used to ao3 I’ll figure out italics and bold stuff but I’m uploading this from my Wattpad at 12:30 in the morning rip

Student Voices was in two months. 

It was a huge school event, meant to show the talents of varying students. Though most people sang or did instrumental arrangements, there were few who did magic, or even stand up comedy. It's was a great way for the student body to represent itself in a relaxed environment. Preston had never personally auditioned (he did plenty of acting in plays and musicals, and at the open mics), but he loved seeing people express themselves and be who they were onstage. 

Max sighed and walked into the practice room. It felt empty, like it was missing something. His face dropped slightly when he realized it was Preston. His usual loud and flamboyant self had been absent from the practice rooms since the last open mic night, and it was already Friday of the following week. Max brushed his sadness off and sat down in the chair in the corner. Strumming the strings of his ukulele, he breathed in the peace of the room. At least without Preston, Max didn't have to worry about anyone hearing him sing. 

He pulled up the chords to I'm Yours, and strummed accordingly.

"Well you done done me, and you bet that I felt it." Max sang quietly. He paused after the next verse.

"Fuck!" He said, taking a deep breath. The room was too cold, too lonely. Max furrowed his brows. He put his uke back in the case and stood up. The bell rang, signaling his cue to go to his next class. He ran a hand through his hair and left the room.

Preston walked home quietly. Usually he'd spend his fifteen minute walk home singing show tunes, or rehearsing lines with himself, but for the past week all he could think about was the open mic night. He still couldn't understand why Max had snapped at him. All he was doing was encouraging him. He was a great player.

Maybe, Preston thought, I'm just pushing too hard. 

Preston pushed his front door open, greeted his Gram Gram, and excused himself to his room. He flopped down dramatically on his bed and texted his friend, Harrison.

hamiltonbutwithjazz: HARRISON

MagicMan: what preston

hamiltonbutwithjazz: MMMMMMNEED ADVICE

MagicMan: on what

hamiltonbutwithjazz: ...Max?

MagicMan: ....

MagicMan: .... Preston

hamiltonbutwithjazz: yes?

MagicMan: what the fuck did you do

hamiltonbutwithjazz: I DONT KNOW! That's the thing. 

hamiltonbutwithjazz: he yelled at me after the open mic

MagicMan: what did you say to him

hamiltonbutwithjazz: i just suggested that he audition for Student Voices, and he got mad at me.

MagicMan: did you push

MagicMan: you do have a habit of being extremely annoying

hamiltonbutwithjazz: fuck off

MagicMan: mmkay

hamiltonbutwithjazz: WAIT WAIT WAIT I DDNT MEAN IT

MagicMan: have you reconsidered

hamiltonbutwithjazz: yes yes yes okay maybe i did push a little too much

hamiltonbutwithjazz: what do i doooooooo

MagicMan: i dunno. maybe try apologizing?

hamiltonbutwithjazz: huh

hamiltonbutwithjazz: i hadnt... considered doing that

MagicMan: Evidentally

MagicMan: why do you care about it so much? he's such an asshat

hamiltonbutwithjazz: because he's my friend!

MagicMan: are you sure he's just a friend >;)

hamiltonbutwithjazz: oh, fuck off

MagicMan has gone offline.

 

Preston groaned and tossed his phone away from him. Apologize? To Max? Preston was good at a lot of things, but apologizing was definitely not his forte. He sighed, rolling on his side, and continued to wallow in self pity for the rest of the night.

 

Max turned his console off. The clock next to his bed read 11:48, and he sighed, climbing into bed and picking his phone up. He stared at the screen, at Preston's contact, for what seemed like forever. Rolling his eyes and sighing in defeat, he switched to Neil's contact.

bitch: hey asshat

supernerd: what do you want? It's nearly midnight.

bitch: d'you think Preston is mad at me

supernerd: Oh good lord, what did you do?

bitch: i uh,, yelled at him

supernerd: For what?

bitch: he said i should try out for the student voices crap

supernerd: and why is that bad?

bitch: idk he said people would love me and i guess i just... got caught up in the moment.

bitch: i mean you know im not supoer into that whole "being loved by everyone" bullshit

supernerd: *Super, and if you're so uncomfortable then why didn't you just tell him that?

bitch: idk

supernerd: Y'know, sometimes its OKAY not to be an absolute asshat to people.

supernerd: Not everyone is like me or Nikki.

bitch: well then what do i do?

supernerd: Are you serious?

supernerd: Go apologize.

supernerd has gone offline.

 

Max got up lazily the next morning. He didn't want to apologize to Preston, but if he wanted this guilt off of his chest, he would have to restore his relationship with the flamboyant theater nerd. He sighed, grabbed his backpack and ukulele, and headed to school.

Once lunch rolled around, Preston was already looking for Max. He was almost running to the small practice room.

Max closed himself into the room, trying to take deep breaths. He needed to calm down before he tried to talk to Preston. His hands were shaking slightly from nervousness, but he dismissed it and sat down in his corner chair. Right as his butt hit the seat, Preston burst through the door.

"Max!" He said, slightly out of breath.

"Preston..." Max said, eyes wide from shock.

"Max, I have to talk to you! I'm sorry that I tried to push you to do the student voices! I know you didn't want to and I tried to push and I wasn't sensitive and-" Preston was cut off by Max's laughing.

"Preston, it's not your fault. I snapped. I was the asshole. I'm sorry." Max said, looking down.

Preston smiled, sitting down.

"Can I? Listen, I mean." He said softly to Max.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want." Max stuttered, pulling his ukulele onto his lap. He cleared his throat and started plucking. 

Preston smiled and watched as Max (who was very red in the face) plucked gently at the instrument.


	6. The Secret is Out... sort of?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max is such a dumb butt.
> 
> In all seriousness, he should learn to control his emotions and observe sometimes.

One month until auditions.

Preston sat in the room with Max, picking through various sheets of homework papers. Licking his thumb, he pulled a green paper out and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a pen and sat quietly, writing while Max plucked. It was a very calm Thursday afternoon, and Max plucked gently at his strings.

Preston started humming. Again, it was I Can't Help Falling In Love With You. After a few moments, he sighed dramatically.

"Can't you play anything else? Like, I'd rather listen to the Krusty Krab Trap Remix on a repeat than that song again." Preston said, an annoyed look on his face. Of course, it was a beautiful song and Preston enjoyed it, but not when it was all Max would play.

Max stopped, lifted his head, stared at Preston, and then continued plucking out of pure spite. Preston rolled his eyes and continued on his homework, and Max smiled smugly. He played the introduction to the song, relaxing back into his chair. Preston's humming grew louder, until Max got to the second verse.

"Shall I stay," Preston started. Max looked up, and nearly stopped. Preston was still writing on the green paper, unaware of Max's shock. "Would it be a sin?" he continued, switching the green paper out for a pink one. Max swallowed, and focused on the ukulele. Preston was a really good singer.

"If I can't help falling in love with you." Preston finished the verse.

Max played on, afraid to look up. He could feel his face growing hot, and got angry at himself for it.

"Like a river flows, surely to the sea," Preston belted out the lyrics. "Darling so it goes,"

Max furrowed his brows, unaware that Preston was now looking straight at him.

"Some things are meant to be." Preston sung, growing quieter. Max was still focused on his small instrument.

"Take my hand," Preston said, feeling his face grow warm.

Max took a deep breath, finally giving into the bliss of Preston's voice. God, Max thought, this boy is angelic. 

"Take my whole life too." Preston sang, finishing up the song. "For I can-" Preston was cut off by a smooth voice singing over him.

"For I can't help falling in love... with you." Max finished, smiling slightly. He looked up at Preston. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide with panic. Preston's jaw was to the floor.

"Max..." Preston said softly.

"Uh, yeah, about that," Max stuttered, getting mad that his face was hot.

"MAX! YOU CAN SIN-" Preston was off of the bench, pointing at Max and shouting wildly. "I can't believe... YOU CAN SING." He finished, exasperated.

"Preston, shut the fuck up and stop yelling!" Max said, panicking. Preston merely waved his hands around. He looked like he was having a panic attack.

"Max, oh my god, you can sing, you can SING, oh my GOD-" Preston was smiling wildly.

Max pushed him out of the room, locking it from the inside. Preston knocked on the door, begging Max to let him back in. Max sat down on the other side of the door, face in hands. he was humiliated, in front of Preston. He had gotten so caught up in the moment and Preston's voice that he had basically declared how he felt about Preston.

"Fuck," Max said to himself quietly. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" Max was sure Preston would tell everyone, which would result in people wanting to see Max and listen to him play. It had taken everything in Max for him to warm up to Preston enough to perform in front of him. Now people would be coming up to him and asking him about his ukulele. They would ask him to sing. 

Max took a deep breath and tried to calm down. In the midst of his panic, he hadn't noticed Preston on the other side of the door, quietly apologizing and begging to be let back in. Max heard him mumbling outside of the door. He leaned his head against the wood, listening.

"Max, please let me in. I won't tell anyone. I promise." Preston said, so quiet that max almost missed him. Max sighed, and stood up, opening the door. He'd have to confront his feelings about Preston now, because Preston surely had  to have caught on by the lyrics Max sung.

"Preston, I-"

"No no no, I'm sorry. I was insensitive. I made a big deal out of it. I'm sorry, Max"

"Well I've been wanting to tell you for a while and-"

"It's okay. I understand, Max."

Preston smiled, hesitantly taking Max's hand. Max swallowed. The next few seconds seemed to happen in slow motion. Their faces grew closer, and Max closed his eyes, waiting for the space to close itself. Preston suddenly threw Max's hands up in the air with his own and laughed. Max's eyes snapped open, and he was confused.

"God, Max, I cannot believe you can fucking sing! This is so cool!" Preston said, excitedly.

"Yeah, well, the more you know.." Max trailed off. The bell rang, and Preston practically skipped out of the room. He said goodbye to Max and went to his next class. Max sighed, exasperated, and again grew frustrated that he would even imagine that Preston might feel the same way he did. He mentally punched himself for growing too hopeful. That he even thought for one second  that... Preston might like him. 

He walked back into the practice room, sat down in the chair in the corner, and grew angrier at himself by the second.

Why, out of all the things he hoped would work out, did he hope Preston would like him? Why would he think things could work out?

Max chuckled to himself bitterly.

Because, he thought, because things never work out the way you want them to, do they?


	7. The Proposal is Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As said before, Max needs to learn to control himself and read situations.
> 
> OBSERVE, babe.

Max was a bitter person. His parents didn't care what he did and, half the time, they were never even home to take care of him. To do what parents do. Max mostly fended for himself and lived off of ramen noodles or Mac n cheese that his mother bought. Which meant no family dinners for him.

And it also meant he never got a greeting when he came home.

Or anyone to ask him how his day was (apart from Nikki, Neil, or Preston).

So that day, Max came home, and vented his frustrations on Halo. First person shooting games calmed him. He logged onto a campaign, and took people down one by one. He was a great shooter (well, as far as video game shooting went).

Bang. First kill.

How could he have been so stupid as to think anyone could find him remotely lovable?

Bang. Second kill.

Why on Earth would he even risk anyone hearing him sing?

Bang.

Bang.

Bang. Three more kills.

Max felt a hot tear run down his face and angrily wiped it away. He was being stupid. He should just forget about it. He clicked the console off, and laid down in bed. He went to sleep immediately, exhausted from his emotions.

 

Two weeks before Student Voices auditions.

Preston walked into the little practice room. He only had one thing on his mind all day.

He was going to ask Max to do student voices with him.

He sat down on the piano bench, listening to Max play a small medley of different songs. After a few moments, he cleared his throat. 

"Max?"

"What?" Max didn't look up from his ukulele. He didn't want to look at Preston's face. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, whatever." Max became hopeful, but pushed the feeling down and tried to keep his cool.

"I know that you didn't want to, but maybe if you didn't sing we could, uh, we could-"

"Spit it out, Preston."

"Will you do Student Voices with me?"

Max froze, and Preston sighed, feeling like he already knew the answer.

"Yeah, sure." Max said, finally looking at Preston. "Which song?"

"actually," Preston said, "I was hoping we could do that Elvis Presley song."

"Alright." Max said. 

And so they set to work.

 

They met up at lunch every day for the next week. Max had probably heard Preston sing the song a hundred times. He never got tired of it.

 

Wednesday, two days before auditions.

'Max, your plucking is off."

Max groaned, frustrated. He hadn't been able to focus for the last two days. Spending so much time with Preston had made him grow angry. He could't shake the feelings he felt, and he was frustrated that he couldn't just get over it.

"Max, your plucking is off, again."

Max plucked harder, feeling his face grow red and feeling frustration boiling in the pit of his stomach.

"Max, what's wrong with you? You're plucking has been off for the last two days. C'mon, again."

Max began again, from the beginning of the song. Preston was getting on his nerves. He always got annoying and short tempered when he was stressed, and it was evident that this audition was stressing him out more than anything Max had seen.

"Look, Max, I don't know what's going on, but you need to-"

Max boiled over.

"I need to what, Preston?" He snapped back, glaring at Preston's surprised face. "I'm sorry I can't always be the perfect person you want me to be! God, not everyone can be as on top of every little thing like you! Not everyone is a perfect princess like you." Max sneered. He glared at Preston for a second longer until he realized what he'd said. Preston's face was bright red, and he looked close to tears.

"Look, I don't know what's been up with you, but I'm sorry for whatever it is. Sorry for trying to get close to you, for trying to make you open up. I thought we had something good going here. Sorry I cared. I guess all I am to you is some bitchy little theater princess, right?" Preston snapped back angrily. Max tried to take a step towards him, but Preston flinched away, and pulled the practice room door open.

"After the show, I'll leave you alone. Obviously you just can't stand me and my bitchy self."

The door closed, leaving Max standing alone in the room. He was glad the rooms were soundproofed. He yelled, kicking his chair. Plopping down on the floor wearily, he put his face in his hands.

He was an idiot.


	8. The Feelings Can’t Be Conveyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* I need to start coming up with better chapter titles.
> 
> Max has trouble expressing himself properly.
> 
> It’s okay hun, me too.

Friday afternoon, auditions.

Max took a seat in one of the chairs in the auditorium. Kids filed in one after another, eager for their auditions. Preston came in, chatted with Harrison, and took a seat across the auditorium, away from Max. Max watched exchange, and sighed, turning his head to the stage. he groaned when David walked up and took a microphone.

"Welcome to the student Voices auditions!" David said, all too cheerfully. "We'll call you up one by one, and you'll perform your routine for us to evaluate. Good luck to everyone!"

David put the microphone back on its stand offstage and sat down at the judge's tables. They called students up one by one, and watched nervous kids audition. There were multiple singing routines, a few magic auditions, and one stand-up comedy act (it was Neil, and his stand up act about science). Towards the end of auditions, Max and Preston were called up. David had a wide grin on his face, and had his eyes locked onto Max the whole time. Onstage, Max set up his ukulele while Preston set up the microphones. Preston looked exhausted, and his face was red from embarrassment, or maybe anger. Max couldn't tell which one it was.

"What will you boys be doing?" David asked, a wide smile on his face.

Before Max could open his mouth, Preston answered him and continued to adjust the microphone. Max looked down at the floor, furrowing his brows. He took a seat in the chair that was positioned on the stage, and glanced at Preston, who cleared his throat. Max started plucking the intro to the song. Preston came in.

His pitch was perfect.

 

Preston came in on the first verse. 

Second verse flew by.

"Like a river flows, surely to the sea," Preston sang, glad Max was behind him slightly. He felt a tear run down his cheek. He was angry about Max at first, but his anger turned into exhausted sadness, and eventually into disappointment. He thought that he was getting closer to Max by doing the auditions with him, but Max had snapped again. Maybe Preston had pushed too much that day.

Maybe Max really didn't like him at all.

Preston would admit, Max had definitely grown on him. He was definitely an asshole, but his presence made Preston feel happy. It made Preston feel warm. Max, to Preston, was bliss and the quiet among a sea of chaos. The thought of losing Max to something as petty as Preston's annoying habits stabbed Preston right through the heart. It made him feel lonely.

Preston felt another tear roll down his cheek as he finished the song.

"Thank you," he said, voice cracking. He ran off of the stage and out of the auditorium. Max followed suit.

"Preston!" he yelled. Preston walked faster.

"Preston, please." Max begged. Preston stopped, whipping around on his heels. He glared at Max.

"What do you want?" He said coldly. His eyes were red and puffy.

"Preston, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got mad. You aren't just some bitchy theater kid. I'm not perfect, and I'm sorry I got frustrated. I'm sorry." Max was close to tears. He'd never been great with confrontation.

"Max I-"

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I know you don't expect me to be perfect. And that's what I like so much about you! You believe in me! And I was a shit head and I know you're mad and I'm sorry-"

"Max." Preston's eyes had dried. He walked toward Max, who was looking at him with wide eyes.

Max, you are so dumb sometimes.

"Whatever it is, you can talk to me. I'm here. I've always been here." Preston said, putting his hands on Max's shoulders. Max took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Max. Don't worry about it." Preston took his hands off of Max's shoulders, and started to walk out of the school building.

"Preston!" Max yelled after him.

"Yes, Max?"

"Thank you... for supporting me." 

"Any time, Max."


	9. I’m Glad We Made Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got excited while writing this.
> 
> Student Voices is finally here!

bitch: Neil

supernerd: What?

bitch: i have a problem

supernerd: What kind of problem?

bitch: a preston problem

supernerd: I thought you two made up?

bitch: we did

supernerd: I don't follow. What's the actual problem?

bitch: I like him, asshat

supernerd: Ah, there's the usual Max.

supernerd: Also, I know you do. You're very obvious.

bitch: fuck

bitch: really

supernerd: Well, I've known you since fifth grade, so it's pretty obvious to me and Nikki.

bitch: FUCK

bitch: NIKKI KNOWS TOO

supernerd: So when are you going to swallow your pride and tell him?

bitch: He doesnt feel the same

bitch: so probably never

supernerd: You never know until you try.

supernerd: Even if he doesn't feel the same, at least you'll have closure, and you'll have time to get over him.

bitch has gone offline.

 

Friday, Student Voices.

They had found out who made it into the show at the auditions. Preston smiled excitedly. Max had simply nodded knowingly to himself, and continued in with his day, trying to ignore the biting nervousness in his stomach.

Max rolled over in bed, looking at his alarm clock. He groaned, got ready for school, and headed out with his backpack and ukulele. Today was a short day because of the assembly for Student Voices, so Max didn't have to spend as much time in his boring ass classes. The past week had been full of quiet awkwardness. After he and Preston "made up", they only talked during their rehearsals at lunch. Max had tried too many times to initiate some sort of conversation, but always gave up after he felt his face grow red. 

You never know until you try.

Max would have to tell Preston, so why not today? He could do it after they finished performing at the assembly. At least then, if he was rejected, everything would be over with and he wouldn't have to deal with Preston anymore. 

At least then, he could have closure.

Max sat down in the practice room. He was always there before Preston. Today was their last rehearsal day, and Max was beyond nervous. Performing in front of a small cafe with barely thirty people in it was one thing, but an auditorium full of hundreds of kids was a completely different rodeo. Preston walked into the room and took his usual seat.

"Nervous?" He question quietly.

"Maybe a little." Max said nonchalantly. His head was swimming with every possible thing that could go wrong with not only the performance, but his confession too.

"Don't be. We'll do great." Preston encouraged, smiling at Max. 

"Yeah." Max said, plucking the beginning of the song. The rehearsal ran smoothly, and they were definitely ready for the performance. Preston said his farewells and a good luck to Max, and went to class. Max swayed a bit, watching him leave. He went into the room, humming to himself. Putting away his ukulele, he took a deep breath.

It's going to be okay.

"Attention all students!" The voice rang through the school loudspeaker, grainy from the poor quality. "Please report to the auditorium for Student Voices!" 

Max was already backstage, having left class early to prepare. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down before he went on. He listened to the other performers. 

Harrison did a magic show with his assistant, Nerris, who was only doing the show for community service hours. She didn't believe in slight-of-hand magic (though Harrison had many students thoroughly convinced the magic was real).

Neil did stand up comedy about science, which was, surprisingly, rather entertaining. When he wasn't so caught up in extensive experimenting and research, he was actually a pretty funny guy.

There were a couple of singing acts, and then Preston and Max were on.

Max's heart was racing a thousand miles a minute. Before they went onstage, Preston found him and made sure he was ready.

"You good?" He asked, excited.

"Yeah, let's do it." Max said with faux confidence.

Preston put his hand on Max's shoulder, squeezed it, and retreated to a corner of the backstage area that had small access to the actors onstage. He stared through a small crack in the curtains, impressed with the act onstage.

Max was very glad it was dark backstage. He knew he was blushing from both Preston and the nervousness that was consuming him. He heard their names being called from a mic onstage, and took one more deep breathe before heading on.

Preston helped Max adjust his microphone, and then adjusted his own accordingly. Giving one more look of encouragement to Max, he cleared his throat. Max started the intro.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in."

Relax, Max.

"But I can't help falling in love with you."

It's okay.

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?"

Max lost himself completely in Preston's voice. Closing his eyes, He even let himself sway slightly to the rhythm of his own playing. Everything, the entire moment, was beautiful. Even if, in the long run, Preston didn't feel the same feelings Max felt, at least he would get to have this one little moment with Preston. Max opened his eyes again, and looked down at his little ukulele. He smiled a little, knowing that such a little instrument could bring him such happiness. He looked at Preston, and was glad his back was turned. He smiled softly at Preston, letting himself enjoy the moment. 

"If I cant help, falling in love with you."

Preston finished the song, and Max snapped out of his daze. The sea of students roared with approval. Max looked at Preston, who had a wide smile on his face. Cute, Max thought to himself. Preston was a garden, beautiful and thriving with life and love and happiness. Max was a small bug, finding peace, and a home within that garden.

(Of course, Max had never been poetic enough to come up with that on his own.)

They walked backstage after their performance, and Preston was giddy with delight. He was practically bouncing off of the walls, and Max had to remind him to be quiet for the rest of the acts. They were both in pure bliss, for two very different reasons.

"Max!" Preston whispered, smiling even wider than he had been before.

"Yeah?" Max whispered back.

"You were amazing!"

"We were amazing." 

Preston gave a small laugh, and walked outside to the small open hallway that connected to the backstage space. The air outside was cool, and Max took a giant breath in.

In, and out. Breathe, Max.

"Hey, Preston?" Max said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He tried to keep his voice as steady as possible.

"Yes?" Preston's eyes were shining brightly.

"I gotta tell you something."

"You can tell me anything, Max."

Max took another shaky breath in. Preston noticed his nervousness, and his expression became softer.

"Max, is everything oka-"

"I like you, Preston."

The world stood still.

The only sounds Max could hear were birds singing outside, and a barely audible gasp from Preston. Max continued.

"Look, I just wanted to get this over with, because I know you probably don't feel the same way, but it would be shitty of me to not tell you-"

Max's rambling was interrupted by soft lips crashing desperately into his. His eyes were wide from shock, but he let himself give into the bliss, and he grabbed Preston's wrists.

Time started moving again.

Max felt peace. He felt happiness. He felt his anger and frustrations and worries melt away into Preston, until they all seemed like silly little irrelevant problems that didn't even matter, because they didn't.

Max felt home.

"Ahem."

The two were interrupted by Harrison, who was smiling smugly at them.

"Hey, Harrison!" Preston chimed happily. Max's eyes widened from embarrassment and he looked down, separating from Preston.

"If you two are... finished," Harrison gestured vaguely at them, an eyebrow raised, "the acts are done, and they're doing the bows."

"I guess we should go then." Preston started to follow Harrison.

"Uh," Max started. Preston rolled his eyes and shook his head, smiling.

"Come on, you idiot, let's do the curtain call."

"Okay." Max said, a determined look on his face. Preston led him backstage again, where the performers lined up together, side by side. The curtain opened, and they linked hands. Preston slid his hand into Max's, smiling at him. Max rolled his eyes, linking their fingers together, and they all bowed simultaneously. 

"And that concludes our 2024 Student Voices!" A voice rang out. Max didn't know who's voice it was. He didn't care. 

He smiled smugly to himself, and he and Preston walked offstage, still holding hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Also, Student Voices is a real thing. It’s where I got my inspiration because I’m unoriginal.)


	10. Everybody Wants A Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter (I hope you guys like it rip).

"You guys did really good!" Nikki said, punching Max in the arm. Max snaked an arm around Preston's waist, holding him as they walked.

"Thanks, Nik." He said, walking in the crisp evening air.

"You two do sound good together." Neil added, still walking.

Preston thanked him, and started talking about songs he'd want to perform in the future. Max listened to every word he said, and smiled to himself, amused by Preston's rambling. Since he and Max had done Student Voices together, it only seemed fitting that Preston was added to Max's performances down at the café with QM. The three of them sounded great together, and occasionally, depending on the song, Max would sing with Preston. Their voices blended nicely together. 

Max loved few things in the harsh, cruel world.

He loved music.

He loved his ukulele.

And, he added one more thing to the list.

He loved Preston.

They walked home together, cool wind biting at their skin, and warmth in their bitter teenage hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was ridiculously short, but everyone enjoys a short & sweet epilogue from time to time, right?
> 
> Hope y’all enjoyed the fic, I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Also, if you wanna give me a follow on tumblr (wink wink nudge nudge) my tumblr is @that-maxpres-life

**Author's Note:**

> This was on wattpad lol I’m so glad I have this ao3 account :3


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